


How Many Bullets?

by Lif61 (UltimateFandomTrash)



Series: Banned Together Bingo 2020 [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anti-Right, Blood, Confederate States, Death, Derogatory Language, Execution, Gen, Gun Violence, Human, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Harassment, Implied/Referenced Torture, Monster of the Week, Murder, Nationalism, Nazis, POV Sam Winchester, Sexism, Shot to death, Swearing, Threats of Violence, Violence, Violent Language, Violent Thoughts, anti-police, leftist propaganda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:54:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28831527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateFandomTrash/pseuds/Lif61
Summary: Sam and Dean encounter a Nazi on their latest hunt.
Series: Banned Together Bingo 2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1916230
Kudos: 9
Collections: Banned Together Bingo 2020





	How Many Bullets?

**Author's Note:**

> Banned Together Bingo 2020 | Leftist Propaganda
> 
> Sam and Dean canonically hate Nazis. Don't @ me.
> 
> I think there's good in people, and in America. Sam and Dean are just violent BAMFs, and definitely violent when it comes to Nazis. This fic has a lot of messed up views in it (mostly from the other guy) and very strong opinions. None of the antagonistic behavior portrays who I truly am I as a person. The violence does not either.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sam bemoaned as he looked upon their latest killer. Apparently the “vicious monster” was a Nazi. So, a human, but barely. Still a monster in Sam’s book.

The guy was dressed in all black, had a black ski mask on, and an American flag bandana was wrapped around his face. It was guys like this that made Sam not trust seeing the American flag anymore. The Nazis, quote un-quote _the Right_ (which was a way of watering down the hatred and violence) frequently used it to reveal themselves to others of their group. They used it not for love or patriotism, but for nationalism. For pain, and killing, and destruction, and hate.

Sam shouldn’t have been surprised their killer was a Nazi. After all, a lot of women had been brutally murdered. Still, seeing this monster before him made him want to rip the guy’s head off.

“Oh wonderful, you’re a Nazi,” Dean commented.

The guy pulled a gun on them.

Sam raised his hands, and commented, “Yep, he sure is.”

“Okay, buddy.” Dean began, “why don’t you put down the gun and we can talk?”

“I don’t need to talk to you. What I did was righteous. All those bitches were slutting around, getting abortions and killing babies whenever they felt like it. They got what they deserved.”

To try and calm the situation, Sam said, “Yeah, I’m sure they did. But you can’t just go around torturing people to death. It’s against the law.”

“So?”

“So,” Dean reasoned, “isn’t our great nation against that?”

“Not for whores like those.”

“Alright, fine,” Sam conceded. “Guess it’s your call. But hey, put the gun down. You don’t need it here. You’re with friends.”

Slowly, the man lowered the gun, and that was when Sam jumped him. He got the gun out of his hand, tossed it to Dean, who removed the magazine and the firing pin, and a short, vicious fight ended with Sam straddling the guy on the asphalt of the alley.

“Alright, _Scooby-Doo_ moment. Take his mask off, Sammy.”

When Sam did so he wasn’t at all surprised to find a startlingly white man, his skin as pale as winter snow just before blood was spilled. Blue eyes, blond hair. Of course. Of fucking course. Not very impressive either. He looked like the kind of guy that stayed on the internet all day violently threatening and harassing and abusing people. And clearly, when he wasn’t doing that, he was out murdering.

Sam felt satisfaction inside at seeing his broken nose, blood clearly having spurted from it, cuts on his lip, his brow, his cheek. The inside of his mouth bled as if he’d bit his tongue, or Sam had knocked a tooth loose. Still, that man smiled, still clearly feeling out of this world with all the “righteous” killing he’d done. In his mind, this surely just proved his point about all the harassment and abuse he doled out on the daily.

_Gotta love America,_ Sam thought sarcastically.

This wasn’t the first time they’d run into a Nazi on a hunt. Not even close. The “Confederate” south was crawling with them. Their numbers seemed to be increasing thanks to their bullshit president.

“So, we take him in?” Dean asked. “Question him? We should probably make sure it’s our guy.”

“Oh, he is,” Sam said with a grim smile.

The horrific man writhed underneath him. Sam just grabbed him by the throat to get him to stop.

“Don’t make me kick you in the head,” Dean threatened.

“Maybe we should turn him over to the police?” Sam suggested.

Dean laughed, and then Sam laughed, realizing the stupidity of it.

He tilted his head, gave a grim smile. “Fine, guess we’re gonna do it the messy way. Dean, hold him down.”

Sam released his grip on his neck, and got off of him. Dean stepped on the guy’s chest, making him groan. He fought some more, but it was utterly useless. Sam and Dean were bigger and stronger than this disgusting asshole.

Sam took out his gun.

“Hmm, how many bullets for Nazis?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know, Sammy. I think they deserve the whole clip.”

“You know, I think you’re right, Dean.”

Sam aimed. He squeezed the trigger.


End file.
